


A haunted apartment

by goldenlionprince



Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Ghost Anders, M/M, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-13 06:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5697877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenlionprince/pseuds/goldenlionprince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mitchell should have known something wasn't quite right with his new apartment the moment he got the keys far too quickly and without any questions. He really shouldn't be surprised to find a ghost there. A very sassy ghost with no sense of privacy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Mitchell pushes the door open and looks around.

The flat is a nice one. Not as big as the house back in Bristol but still big enough to live nicely on his own. A bit too stylish maybe, too modern with its sleek furniture, but it's a roof over his head so he won't complain too much. It's nothing he wouldn't be able to change over time if it really bugs him.

The landlady was very quick with giving him the key to the apartment although he doesn't look like someone who would normally fit into this slightly posh apartment complex. Mitchell should have known that something wasn't right when she shoved the key into his hands after he signed the tenancy agreement, her smile a bit too bright and too relieved.

He really should have known.

“Another one,” comes a groan from the couch. “Bloody brilliant.”

Mitchell stops for a moment, letting his duffel bag slide down from his shoulder and onto the floor. He closes the door behind himself and drops the key onto the counter, then takes a few steps into the living room so he can look over the back of the couch. With a sigh Mitchell pinches the bridge of his nose where he can feel a headache creeping up.

He really should have known.

“When will they finally stop trying to rent my apartment?” the blond man on the couch groans and sits up with an annoyed huff. “Everyone moves out after a few weeks anyway so why keep trying?”

“Because they don't know you're still here,” Mitchell answers, leaning his hip against the counter.

The blond's head whips around. He stares at Mitchell for a few seconds before a smirk spreads on his lips. “You can see me.”

It's not a question but Mitchell nods anyway, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah, I can see you.”

“Good, that makes it much easier.” The blond throws his legs over the side of the couch and stands up, straightens his bright blue sweater absently while walking over to Mitchell and pointing a finger at him. “You will leave. This is my apartment.”

Mitchell shrugs his shoulders. “Not anymore, sorry mate.”

The blond smiles at him, but it's a sharp smile you'd give someone you want to murder right on the spot. “I died here, I'm pretty sure this is my apartment, _mate_.”

Mitchell grins at the way the shorter man spits out the last word. “Well, I died in a forest in France and I'm pretty sure I can't just go there call it my own now.”

“This apartment was mine before I died, dimwit.” There is a pause and a frown appearing on the blond's face that makes Mitchell grin even more. “Wait, you aren't dead.”

“I am.” Pushing away from the counter Mitchell grabs his duffel bag from the floor and walks down the hallway to the bedroom. “I'm just not a ghost like you. I'm a vampire.”

“Are you kidding me?”

Mitchell is not surprised to see the blond following him to the bedroom. He sets his bag down onto the king-sized bed and turns to open the wardrobe. “I can see you, can't I?”

“My brothers can see me too and they aren't lunatics who claim to be vampires.”

“I don't _claim_ to be one,” Mitchell huffs, taking a few shirts out of his bag. “I _am_ one.”

“Well then, prove it,” the blond demands, leaning against the doorframe.

Mitchell grumbles and shoves the shirts into the wardrobe before he turns back towards the ghost, eyes bleeding black and fangs out. “Believe me now?”

“Nice trick,” the blond answers completely unimpressed. “Ever considered a career at a ghost train?”

Mitchell stares at him for a moment before he laughs, willing his eyes back to their usual brown. “No, but thanks for the suggestion. I'm Mitchell, by the way.”

“Anders,” the blond says with a little bow of his head. “Anders Johnson. And it's still _my_ bedroom you're standing in.”


	2. Chapter 2

“You know, it's kind of unfair that I can't change my clothes and you still can, since we're both dead and all.”

Mitchell sighs and turns off the shower. Pushing the shower curtain aside he glares at the ghost who leans in the doorway to the bedroom, a smirk on his lips when Mitchell grabs a towel to cover himself. “I though we've been over this already.”

“Only the part of why you can still eat and drink and I can't. Also unfair.”

Stepping out of the shower Mitchell pushes his damp hair out of his face. “It's the same reason, Anders. I have a still working body, at least mostly working, and you don't.”

Anders' eyes travel down Mitchell's body, stopping at the towel. He raises one eyebrow, the smirk on his lips growing wider. “Mostly?”

Grabbing the towel Mitchell wraps it tighter around his hips. “Shut up.”

“But _he_ does work, right?”

“Yes, he works just fine, thank you.” Shouldering past the ghost Mitchell stomps into the bedroom to get dressed.

Raising his hands in a gesture of peace Anders follows him. “No need to be all touchy about it, I just asked.”

Ripping the door of the wardrobe open Mitchell huffs and goes through his clothes in search for something to wear. “You're asking all the time. You're like one big walking question mark.”

Shrugging his shoulders Anders leans against the cupboard and watches Mitchell. “You can't blame me for having questions and using the advantage of having a dead people expert walking around my flat.”

“I'm not a dead people expert!”

“Well, you are dead and the only alternative I have is a shitty oracle that couldn't answer even one question since I died, or before. So congrats, you just been promoted to expert status. Shall I get you a badge with your name on it?”

Grabbing a pair of underwear Mitchell puts it on under the towel before dropping it to the floor, which earns him another smirk from the blond ghost. Rolling his eyes he goes for a pair of tight black jeans next and struggles to pull them up over his still damp skin.

“Back to your original question,” he says before Anders can comment on his grace with clothes. “All the ghosts I've met so far appeared in the clothes they died in. None of them been able to change their clothes. Don't ask me why exactly but I really think it's a not having a real body thing.”

“So you're trying to say I'm actually lucky I died in this and not some horrible Halloween costume.” Pointing at his bright blue sweater Anders pulls a face. “Very comforting.”

“I wasn't finished yet.” Buttoning up his jeans after finally pulling them up completely Mitchell reaches for a long-sleeved shirt next. “They haven't been able to change their clothes completely but Annie, the ghost I lived with back in England, she was able to alter her clothes.”

“Alter.” Frowning a little Anders crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Alter how exactly?”

“I think it's been a mood thing,” Mitchell explains and pulls the shirt over his head. “If she was happy her clothes changed slightly, even revealing more of her skin sometimes. They stayed mostly the same colour though, only a bit lighter or darker.” Mitchell looks at Anders and his blue sweater with a grin and grabs a bright yellow shirt out of the cupboard. “I don't know what you're ranting about anyway. I think that's a very nice sweater.”

“I don't expect someone to understand who wears bright yellow.” Pulling a face at the t-shit in Mitchell's hand Anders pushes away from the wardrobe.

Mitchell shrugs and pulls the t-shirt over the long-sleeved shirt he's already wearing while kicking the door of the cupboard shut. “It's a cheerful colour.”

“You're not living on Sesame Street, Dracula.”

Chuckling Mitchell walks over to the nightstand. He brushes his hair back with his fingers and grabs his wallet and gloves, pushing the first into the pocket of his jeans. “Maybe cheering up would help you too. Try to be a bit more happy, maybe that even changes your sweater.”

Anders thinks about it for a moment while Mitchell pulls his gloves on, then a slow smile spreads on his lips. “I hope you don't have any plans, Vlad.”

Looking up from his gloves Mitchell frowns. “Why?”

“Because we're going to visit my brother.” Grabbing the sleeve of Mitchell's shirt Anders pulls him towards the door. “There are some fish wanting to come home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Find me and more of my stories on [tumblr](http://goldenlionprince.tumblr.com/)


End file.
